


Cops and Robbers

by writeasoph



Series: Cute Septiplier Stories [12]
Category: Sean McLoughlin - Fandom, Septiplier - Fandom, mark fischbach - Fandom
Genre: Flirting, Jackiplier, M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, Police!Mark, Septiplier - Freeform, detective!mark, idk - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, no youtube, punk!jack, septicplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeasoph/pseuds/writeasoph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Fischbach gets to work, just like any other day. However, what happens when a stunning convict is brought in for him to question?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

Flinching, Mark sat up and wiped his eyes. The sight calmed him almost instantly, to see that he was in his familiar bedroom rather than actually being chased by something. No matter how many times he had the dream - or more like nightmare - he couldn't figure what it was. It was dark, mysterious and -  
Once more, Mark jumped as his alarm clock rang out that it was time to wake up. Shaking his head, he turned off the blatant noise that dared to try and wake him, the monster vanishing from his mind. 

Rubbing his forehead, Mark found himself more alert than he was a few minutes ago and made a start to get ready for his work. A quick glance in the mirror told him that the bags under his eyes were getting worse, probably due to his restless sleeping patterns but after brushing it off just like so many other times moved on hastily. A brief breakfast and shower and he was off, ready to face the challenges that the world had prepared for him. Or at least, he thought he was ready.

Mark arrived early to his office and proceeded to make himself a strong coffee before sitting down in his office. The room was small but cosy, and after many nights working overtime in the space he had grown quite accustomed to it. He had grown used to the outdated computer, dusty windowsill and heaps of paper that longed to be organised.

Just as normal, the day was spent gruelling through papers desperately trying to find something that gave his team a lead. Today's job was trying to catch Robert Davies, a man notorious for carjacking. For hours after hours, Mark studied the interviews and statements made and stared at evidence found from various places. After finding nothing for the whole day and making zero progress, Mark felt exasperated. Being busy all day had kept him happy, especially with a cup of coffee to fuel him throughout the day but having no results and the end of the day infuriated him. 

Leaning back in his chair, Mark glanced at the clock to see his work day ended in 10 minutes. Slamming his hands onto the table, he stood up and grabbing his jacket started to make his way out of the building. Walking past the glimmering corridor, Mark came across the entry desk where two of colleagues were chatting.

"On your way out Detective Fischbach?" Claire joked. "It's a bit early isn't it?"

"You know not to call me that Claire. Mark is fine by me. And yes, I've made no progress at all on the Davies case and I just want to go home if I'm honest." Mark declared, before starting to head towards the door once more.

"Did you get my email, Mark? I found something just this morning before I changed shift. I think he's going to be in Lancaster tomorrow," Jen stated.

Irritated, Mark stopped walking and turned to face her. "What?!" he asked. "You mean I've spent all day searching through evidence for no reason?" he said. Rolling his eyes, he shook his head and begun to walk out once more. The case could be dealt with quickly tomorrow if Mark got up early enough. There was no way he was going back in there or at least he thought there was.

Steps away from the door, Mark was interrupted once more. As the door opened, three more of his colleagues appeared with a stranger in handcuffs. Stepping out of the way, Mark watched with a look of shock on his face and the stranger lashed out, attempting to escape from the officers despite the handcuffs still encasing his wrists. Unfortunately for the convict, the officers managed to regain control and as the enforcers signed in the convict. The man looked down to the ground and coughed, spitting blood onto the shiny floor. Before Mark could react, the man looked up with a devilish grin and his eyes slowly met with Mark's. 

Mark was astonished. Shining blue eyes bore into him and Mark couldn't help but sigh as he saw the expression of pure confidence. His luminous green hair tickled his cheekbones with a sharp fringe just brushing under his right eye. He had a perfectly chiseled jawline which framed his features beautifully. The look was to die for and the bleeding split lip only added to the illusion. He might as well have Badass written in neon lights above his head. Mark was sure that bringing this man in must have been a chore to do with his violent attitude but was glad his co-workers had completed the job. 

"Name?" Claire asked, suspicious of the man that stood before her.

"Sean. Sean McLoughlin. But please, call me Jack, gorgeous," he winked at her, before trying to pull away from the officer's grip.

Mark glanced at Andy, one of the officers before watching him knee the convict in the stomach, causing him to bend over in pain. "Don't flirt with officers McLoughlin," he said, revelling in his power over him. 

"Was that really necessary? I mean, just because you're jealous-" he started, before being kicked to the ground.

"You know what McLoughlin? I think shutting your goddamn mouth would be a better solution."

Mark couldn't help but feel attracted to the guy. He was captivating, confident, badass. Feeling guilty, Mark turned away in order to stop himself from staring and try to get away unnoticed.

"Fischbach, wait! He's gonna need an interrogation and Aaron's on holiday remember?" Andy said.

Turning back around, Mark sighed in annoyance. "Fine. But it's gonna be quick, okay? Send him in, I'll be there in a minute,"

Nodding, the officers started to pull Sean in the direction of the office. Just before they left the room however, Sean managed to stop the group before spinning to face Mark once more. "Can't wait to meet you, babes!". Mark couldn't decide whether he was looking forward to or dreading the hour ahead of him but smiled when he heard a sharp, "Hey!" as the officers started to drag him once more.

It was gonna be a long night.


	2. Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awkward interview, Mark starts something he doesn't know the outcome of.

Shuffling the papers in his hands, Mark set foot into the spotless interrogation chamber. After spending a few minutes collecting his thoughts in his office, he was finally ready to put this awfully attractive man into custody. Oh god...

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he sat opposite Sean and gazed up at him. The man sat with one hand in his hair, his elbow resting on the table and Mark couldn't help but simply see the confident swagger in his position. The glint in his eyes said it all...

_I know you want me._

Once again, Mark was forced the thoughts out of his head and tried to ignore the pair of eyes that were mentally undressing him. He wasn't Mark in this room, he was Detective Fischbach. A young, yet successful, part of the police force who put criminals away for their crimes. He wasn't just going to let any random, hot, distracting criminal stop him from doing his job.  
Of course he wouldn't. Definitely not.

"It is Thursday, July 6th at 17:12 with Detective Fischbach and Sean McLoughlin," he said, starting the recording. "Everything you say here will be recorded. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence. Please confirm that your name is Sean William McLoughlin." Mark began, his head in the game with a strong mindset and determination. The routine was boring but quickly picked up and helped Mark to get into his serious mood.

"It sure is, sexy," Sean winked, rolling up his sleeves.

Mark watched, breathless as Sean's retreating sleeves slowly revealed a few tattoos littering his arms. Exhaling and biting his lip, Mark tried to regain his composure.

"Please, uh, refrain yourself from flirting with me. It isn't going to affect anything that happens here." He forced, rolling his eyes in an attempt to show Sean that his display hadn't affected him. To Mark's dismay however, Sean appeared to see right through the clumsy concealment and with another smug look and a raised eyebrow, Sean leant back into his chair with his arms gracefully resting behind his head. 

"Whatever you say, detective." He smirked.

"So, Mr McLoughlin. You-"

"Please detective, call me Jack. I hate that name." He interrupted with a bored tone. 

"Fine. Jack, you have been brought to these premises on the suspicion of several graffiti offenses and theft. Do you admit to these crimes?" Mark questioned, eager to move on. He just prayed that Sean or Jack or whatever his name was, didn't notice the effect that he was creating on Mark.

"No. Am I allowed to ask what evidence you have that would make you think I'm the culprit here?" He asked, leaning forward whilst resting both arms flat on the table. His eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Yes, you are." Mark said, peering down at the evidence file. "We have several eyewitness accounts of a "young, handsome, green-haired male". Green hair isn't very common, is it?"

It didn't dawn on Mark that he had added 'handsome' into the description until a few seconds after he had made the addition. Hastily, he glanced down and checked the quote in hope that he hadn't made it up. No matter how many times he looked, the word simply did not appear. Flustered, he glanced up to look at Jack to see that the man's smirk had almost doubled in size, evidently confirming that he really had said it. Mark glanced away quickly, feeling his face heating up.

"Handsome? Wow, what a nice eyewitness. I really must find out who they are and take them out to dinner sometime. Can I see the file?" Jack taunted, knowing how easy it would be to catch Mark out now.

"No! I mean, uh, n-no, that's against the rules!" Mark stuttered, scrambling the papers towards himself. He couldn't let Jack see that he had added in the remark, as if he didn't already know, but to see the stupid mishap on paper...that would just be even more embarrassing.

"Someone looks...flustered." Jack murmured, just loud enough for Mark to hear. If it was possible to will your cheeks not to blush, Mark was willing harder than just about anyone.

"Just answer the damn question!" Mark shouted, knowing he was getting way too defensive and that if he hadn't made it obvious before, he was only making things worse now.

"What? Is green hair common? Come on, that's so just discrimination. You can't keep me in here for that!" Jack exclaimed with a scowl.

"Of course I can," Mark decided, finally having had enough of the awkward interview. "You match the witness's description perfectly and you've been rude the whole time. I'm pretty sure I could put you behind bars just for being a massive inconvenience to my colleagues earlier. It's too damn late to be doing this anyway.”

Mark rose from his seat and gestured for Jack to stand up as well.

“One thing though first...” Jack murmured, smirking. Mark stared at him in exasperation. “Detective, detective, I think you just agreed that I am perfectly 'handsome'.” Jack smiled innocently as Mark realised yet another careless mistake he had made. Trying hard to keep calm, he stared Jack dead in the eye.

“Up. Let's go.”

Huffing and obviously disgruntled, he finally stood up and with Mark's firm grip on his arm they made their way towards the door. Upon reaching the locked door, Mark turned to his side to search his pockets for the key. After some jangling, he managed to find it and turned back around to face the door.

"I know you like me. I'm not stupid." Jack whispered into Mark's ear, freezing Mark on the spot. The voice was so low, so silky that Mark wasn't sure if his own voice could match the pure lust reflected in it.

"You stopped the recording and it's literally just us in here.” Jack suggested alluringly. “We could do whatever we wanted, detective, whatever _you_ wanted. No one would ever have to know," he purred, his hands already brushing longingly against the buttons on Mark's jacket. 

Mark couldn't decide which he was in: heaven or hell. He couldn't deny that he was aroused more than ever before, but what would this end up as? If somehow they weren't caught, which was likely, there was no way that Jack would agree to go back into his cell afterwards. He'd just run off and Mark would be at fault. If they were caught, Mark would definitely be suspended at the very least, with countless other reprimands. So why was he even considering it?

Maybe because right now, the most incredibly sexy guy he had ever seen was offering something that he hadn't had the opportunity to do in months. After being cheated on and deserted, the temptation was just that little bit stronger. Though he would never admit it, the lack of action had been getting to him.

Mark knew he should move, push Jack's wandering hands away and chuck him a cell-but he couldn't. He felt his knees grow weak, his heartbeat quicken and his body become more alert, ignorant of how the day had dragged on and on. He was completely helpless and with barely a millimetre between them, Mark willingly leaned in to brush lightly against Jack's lips.

"Mark?"

Shaken and shocked, Mark stepped away in an instant to realise that the voice belonged to Claire, who stood only on the other side of the door, so close to knowing what Mark had nearly done that it seemed impossible for her to be totally unaware. Pushing Jack away further, he cleared his throat. "Yes, Claire?" His voice was steady, although a little too high.

"Do you want me to take over? I know how much you wanted to leave earlier."

Sighing in relief, Mark unlocked the door and grabbed Jack in order to pull him from the room as if he wasn't being cooperative.

"I'm finished with him now, thanks Claire. I'll just take him back and then I'll be on my way. Thank you for the offer though." He smiled at her before swiftly marching Jack towards the custody cells. Wiping his face, he sighed. How stupid could he be? He had nearly done something with a convict! How far would that have even gone? Sighing, he came up to cell 12 and took out his spare set of keys to unlock the door. Mark hated to admit it, but he would do anything to be back in that room with Jack's hungry lips assaulting his body. Stupid, so stupid.

"I like you too, by the way. I don't want to snog every detective I meet." Jack said, the smirk still painted on his face.

" _That_ , never happened and we will never talk about it again. I-I don't like you like that at all. You just took advantage of me." Mark wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince Jack or himself but either way it wasn't working. He could tell by his grin though that Jack had enjoyed himself far too much. 

With an expression of utter disbelief, Jack came close once more. Opening the door, Mark gestured for him to go inside, not commenting on the lack of space between them. 

"Go ahead. Tell yourself that but..." he began, walking into the cell. 

"..we both know that isn't true." 

Mark simply shut the door and locked it, trying to ignore the knowing smirk on the gorgeous face, hoping to keep his problems locked firmly behind the steel door. Exhaling and rubbing the back of his neck, he collected his belongings from his office and after telling Claire that Sean McLoughlin was in cell 12 and handing in a set of keys, left the building an hour later than planned. 

Upon returning home, Mark dumped his briefcase by the front door and after eating some leftovers, collapsed into bed. Not even bothering to undress, he sunk under the covers. Fatigue hit quickly and before he knew it Mark was fast asleep. 

For the first time in weeks, he didn't have nightmares or wake up in the middle of the night. He slept the whole way through before awakening just minutes before his alarm went off. 

As he stumbles out of bed, he doesn't remember the dream about the green haired boy who managed to sweep him off his feet.


	3. Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack struggle to get through a tight situation.  
> -  
> Mark discovers Jack's escape.

\- -1 year later- -

"Oh come on Mr Fischbach, we know you know more than that."

"Maybe I do, but what makes you think that I'm going to tell you anything?"

Having recovered from the shock of being handcuffed to the table, Mark looked up to his interrogator. The man was a middle aged senior, probably having worked in the department for a couple years. He knew each and every trick in the book and was most likely to have been trained to handle each one.

Well, maybe not every one. There was one that even he had fallen for, over a year ago.

The room was a sterile white, with a false mirror on the left. With only a small table between them, the room was empty and bare. Mark couldn't help but stare at the door which he understood Jack would come through any minute now.  
However, Jack was taking longer than planned and Mark knew he didn't have much time left. The room was quiet apart from the slight ticking of the clock to his left, each tick a burning reminder of the little amount of time left. 

"Tell me, Sergeant, how much action do you get lately? You seem a bit, stressed," Mark said smoothly.

"Sorry, what?" he replied, obviously flustered. 

Mark looked down, smiling to himself. "I'm simply saying, how's the wife?"

Sensing the distraction, the sergeant shakes his head. "Let's stay on subject shall we? Now-"

Hoping that the sergeant's reflexes were as bad as he thought they were, Mark shut his eyes. Then, in an instant, he stood up and leant over the desk towards his interrogator. As he met the older man's lips, he saw his eyes open wide in shock before closing and leaning in himself.   
The man's kiss was sloppy, missing Mark's mouth half the time. He tasted of bitter coffee and cigarettes, the caffeine meant for pulling him through his shift. 

Just as Mark was about to pull away in order to headbutt the man out cold, he felt him being pulled away before seeing him fall to the ground.

"Really?" A familiar voice spoke. "Couldn't wait 2 minutes could you?"

Grinning, Mark glanced up to see Jack with a baseball bat in one hand whilst fixing his neon green hair under his unfamiliar guard cap. The man looked dashing in the outfit, even if it was a bit tight around his chest. Mark was glad to know that Jack's part of the plan had gone unhitched.

"You were taking ages and I was only recycling old tricks. It's not like you've never seduced your way out of a situation before,"

"Tell me about it. Come on Fischbach, let's get out of here," he said, bending towards the crumpled man on the ground and searching each pocket for the handcuff keys. Letting out a sigh when he finally found it, he walked towards the table and unlocked Mark's hands. 

"Next time, be more careful, yeah?" Jack said, his voice softening and fingers brushing against Mark's wrist as he almost rubbed the feeling of the tight handcuffs away.

"More careful? How? All I did was snog him a bit and then I was gonna knock him out. It would have been easy," Mark explained.

"And if he hadn't fallen for it? Then what?" Jack almost scolded. 

"I would just head butted him as hard as I could. Anyway, you're just jealous." Mark waved off.

"Of course I am. I haven't seen my Markimoo for 2 days," Jack said, before jokingly ruffling his hand through Mark's hair. Rolling his eyes, Mark simply stood up and made his way towards the door. 

"Showtime?" he asked, putting his hands behind his back. He hears Jack walk up behind him, a hand running down the back of his arm towards his wrists before gripping it tightly. The touch almost reminds him of the time they first met, a slow touch leading onto something much bigger than he could handle.

With a quick adjustment of his cap, Jack gripped Mark's wrists with one hand and opened the door in front of them with the other. His head down and hair hidden by the cap, Jack guided Mark through the door by the clutch of his wrists. The pair knew they had to get out quick, they had no idea how long the department would take to discover Jack's uniform source. Jack marched Mark down the corridor with a grin on his face, imagining someone discovering their unconscious colleagues in a random closet somewhere.

"Showtime,"

\- - -

"What do you mean he's not in his cell?!"

With a hand on his brow, Mark couldn't believe it. How absent-minded had he been that he couldn't even lock up a convict correctly?

"I'm so sorry Mr Fischbach, I mean - it's my fault. I noticed there was only one set of keys that you handed back but you were just so tired, I didn't want to bother you-"

"Claire, it's fine. We both know I obviously was so out of it, he pickpocketed me. Shit. I'll get on it straight away," Mark remarked, speeding off into his office. 

"Um, Mark? The inspector has pushed Davies to our priorities. Why don't you just hand McLoughlin on to one of the DCs?" Claire called.

With that, Mark stopped. As much as his training told him to listen to Claire and heed on her advice, but something made him want to stick to the case like glue. The man had been so - interesting. He was alluring, mysterious, charming. He had also been the first to trick Mark in such a way that had rendered him useless. He had made the detective's legs weak in a way that he didn't remember feeling before. 

Maybe that's why he felt so hooked, desperate to hang on. 

But duty always came first. Davies was more important. Right?

"Uh, yeah. Of course. I'll just send him over to Barnes. Thank for reminding me,". Not even waiting for a reply this time, Mark just made his way to his office. 

Rushing down the corridor, he didn't even bother to greet his fellow colleagues, too eager for a cup of refreshing coffee to lift him back up from his low. Throwing his jacket aimlessly to the side, he collapsed into his stiff office chair and wiped his face in a vain attempt to make his day a little better. Nonetheless, he settled down and began to plan his operation to capture Davies, no matter what the cost.

He hoped that this time there wouldn't as much of a distraction.


End file.
